


Dolohov’s curse

by lesyeuxdelilith



Series: two halves of a whole [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Bittersweet, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Eater Attacks, Double Agents, Established Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Good Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Heavy Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Malfoy Manor, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Post-War, Sane Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Soulmates, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxdelilith/pseuds/lesyeuxdelilith
Summary: Andromeda Tonks strode into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, staring straight ahead with a blank yet approachable expression. The place hadn’t changed a bit in nearly three decades, she noted with a nostalgic smile. Bewildered, the seventh-year students started whispering amongst themselves.Draco Malfoy snickered under his breath and nodded at his aunt, offering her an encouraging smile. Beside him, Hermione Granger gaped at the new professor in a way that was almost offensive. Confusion clouded her lovely features, tears shimmered in her golden eyes.Where in the world was Bellatrix?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Andromeda Black Tonks, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: two halves of a whole [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047382
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130





	1. I: Your soulmate is a reckless idiot, dear.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [civicrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/civicrose/gifts), [MsMatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMatch/gifts).



> Not one of my finest works. Not overly proud of it either. Still, I needed to write this idea down. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Bold and italics for memories, italics for thoughts/Legilimency/Andromeda mocking Narcissa 
> 
> For civ & ma, thank you so much for listening to my incessant rambles and crazy schemes. Hope you like this fic :)

Andromeda Tonks strode into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, staring straight ahead with a blank yet approachable expression. The place hadn’t changed a bit in nearly three decades, she noted with a nostalgic smile. Bewildered, the seventh-year students started whispering amongst themselves.

“Good morning, everyone,” greeted Andromeda, effectively silencing the confused teenagers. With a flick of her wrist, everyone’s books flew open. “I am going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts for the next couple of weeks, you may call me Professor Tonks.”

Nobody spoke a word, unsure of what to say, until Seamus Finnigan screeched in absolute horror. “B-Banshees!”

Andromeda merely smirked, amusement glinting in her chocolate eyes. The resemblance to her older sister was uncanny, the students noticed somewhat nervously. 

Draco Malfoy snickered under his breath and nodded at his aunt, offering her an encouraging smile. Beside him, Hermione Granger gaped at the new professor in a way that was almost offensive. Confusion clouded her lovely features, tears shimmered in her golden eyes.

Smiling grimly, Andromeda brushed her mind against Hermione’s with a nonverbal _Legilimens_ . The lack of resistance startled her for a moment. _“Hermione, love, we need to talk. Stay after class, okay?”_

_“I-Is everything alright? Did something happen? Where’s Bella?”_

Andromeda’s expression softened a tad, her eyes growing sad momentarily. _“I cannot tell you just yet. As for your first question… Well, let’s just say that things could be way worse than they are right now.”_

With that being said, Andromeda gently pulled away from Hermione’s mind. “As your classmate pointed out, we’re going to be studying Banshees today. Any questions before we start?” About half of the class raised their hands, curiosity written all over their faces in bold letters. “Let me rephrase that a bit. Any questions _not_ concerning my sister before we start?”

Looking rather ashamed, the students slowly put their hands down. Andromeda shook her head whilst sighing, but there was a playful smile tugging at her lips. _“Bella was right, they are an amusing bunch.”_

“Alright,” Andromeda continued. “Can someone please tell me what a Banshee is?” The woman waited, glancing at every single student pointedly. Only one hand was raised. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione licked her lips. “They are Dark creatures native to Ireland. Banshees are malevolent spirits that have the appearance of women and their cries are fatal to anyone who hears them. They have a zombie-like appearance; green-tinged skin, skeletal face and black hair. Due to their similarities, it is possible that Banshees are related to Dementors, and may like them be considered amortal.”

Andromeda nodded, impressed. “Excellent, five points to Gryffindor. How does one defeat a Banshee?”

This time, Neville Longbottom raised his hand. 

“Yes, Mister Longbottom?” Andromeda said, offering the nervous boy a kind smile.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, the three Black sisters had dispelled the ancient memory charm that Bellatrix had placed upon Frank and Alice Longbottom _that_ fateful night all those years ago. After a heart-warming reunion, the Longbottom family had thanked them profusely time and time again. Even when Bellatrix had apologised for not being able to save them from the other Death Eaters, for not finding another way out, for breaking their family apart for almost two decades; they had thanked her warmly. Andromeda would _never_ forget the grateful look on Neville’s tear-stained face.

“Gold,” he answered, voice trembling slightly. “A weapon of pure gold can kill a banshee. Just being slashed with a golden weapon hurts it. Y-You can also use a Laughing Potion to defend yourself against them.”

“Exactly, another five points to Gryffindor,” chuckled Andromeda. The Slytherin students huffed; wasn’t Professor Tonks supposed to be a former Slytherin? “Now, I’d like you to write an essay on Banshees for Friday. Say… Three pages long?” Everyone groaned in unison. “Four pages long, perfect! You can start working on them now.”

By the time Hermione had written about two pages and a half on the differences between benevolent and malevolent Banshees, Andromeda clapped her hands and said, “Class dismissed, I’ll see you on Friday. Please don’t forget your essays!” Everyone left the classroom right away, speaking in hushed whispers and giggling softly.

Draco, noticing that Hermione was packing her things at a deliberately slow pace, patted her shoulder awkwardly. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies either. They were… Acquaintances, so to speak. “Are you going to ask aunt ‘Dromeda about aunt Bella?” He questioned softly, already knowing the answer. Hermione nodded, glancing at Andromeda. “Good luck. Try not to faint.”

“W-What?” Hermione blurted out, shocked. “Malfoy, come back− _ugh!_ ”

“What did my dear nephew do now?” Andromeda chuckled, sitting on the table. Again, the resemblance between the elder Black sisters was absolutely uncanny. With a sigh, Andromeda’s expression saddened. “Listen, love, the situation is a bit… _Complicated_.”

Hermione frowned, drumming her fingers against the table. Constant alertness, Andromeda noted with a pang of despair, a common trait amongst survivors. “What do you mean? Where is Bella?”

“In St. Mungo’s,” replied Andromeda. “As you already know, there was a skirmish in the Ministry three days ago. More like a blown-out battle, actually. The remaining Death Eaters rioted, tried to wreak havoc, spread fear, take down some Aurors… Rabastan Lestrange, Amycus and Alecto Carrow, Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley and Augustus Rookwood were there together with some other unidentified Death Eaters.” 

“I− Bella was there,” Hermione whispered weakly, pale and clammy. “She was going to visit Tonks at the Ministry on Sunday afternoon!” The raven-haired witch had wanted to reconnect with her niece after the war, so they would frequently meet up when possible. They had grown rather close throughout the months, so much so that Tonks called her _‘Aunt Bella’_ on occasion. 

“The Death Eaters recognised her,” Andromeda confirmed gloomily. “After a few petty insults, they started fighting against each other. Nothing Bella couldn’t handle, really.” Awe dripped from Andromeda’s strained voice, admiration swirling within chocolate eyes. “But… Some rookie Aurors made a grave mistake. They believed that Bella was with _them_. Dora arrived at the battlefield just in time to—”

Hermione placed a hand atop Andromeda’s trembling ones. “To what, Andy?”

Andromeda looked at the ceiling, blinking back tears. A loud gulp echoed throughout the eerily quiet classroom. “Dora arrived just in time to hear an Auror say, and I quote, _should have known that Lestrange would backstab us!_ ” Her voice cracked painfully. “Apparently, that distracted Bella momentarily. You know just how much she hates it when someone calls her _Lestrange,_ ” Andromeda tried to jest. Hermione nodded, smiling grimly. “Dolohov hit her square in the chest with that bloody curse of his during that brief moment of distraction. _Putrefactiō,_ he calls it.”

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Hermione made a gagging noise. Her body shook, rocking back and forth in a vicious manner. Unpleasant memories rushed back into her mind, overwhelming every single one of her senses.

**_“Don’t do anything yet. Not yet—”_ **

**_“You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!”_ **

**_“Oh, you don’t understand Potter as I do, Bellatrix. He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”_ **

Two gentle hands brought her back to the present moment. 

Andromeda was cupping her cheeks gently, staring straight into her golden eyes with heartwarming concern. Her _Patronus_ — a beautiful silvery tigress, Hermione noted rather absentmindedly — ran around them in circles happily, chasing their misery away. And its tail. 

“There you are,” the middle Black sister said, visibly relieved. “Where did you go, love?”

“I− er, remembered fragments from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries,” Hermione replied, pinching the hem of her pullover. “Hearing about Dolohov’s spell triggered some memories, I think. I− we met him there. At the Department of Mysteries, I mean. I silenced him at the beginning of the fight, but he struck me with that curse of his using nonverbal magic.”

If possible, Andromeda’s concern doubled in size. “W-What? How are you… In the middle of the battlefield… Surrounded by bloodthirsty Death Eaters! How did _you_ survive?”

Hermione blushed, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “It’d be easier if I showed you…” Taking a deep breath, the younger witch looked at Andromeda in the eye and nodded reassuringly. 

“Legilimens.”

  
  


**_A silvery blue mist dangled over the floor, hardly illuminating the dark Department of Mysteries. Pained screams, mocking cackles, hasty incantations and heartfelt insults echoed throughout the frightening corridors. To say that the Death Eaters were in their element was a gross understatement._ **

**_A fifteen-year-old Hermione struck dumb a Death Eater. Their impassive mask fell to the floor, revealing the smirking face of Antonin Dolohov. His dark eyes darted around, unseeing._ **

**_Much to Hermione’s surprise, the man made a sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like a purple flame. It passed right across Hermione’s chest, squashing her insides downright viciously._ **

**_Hermione crumpled onto the floor, unable to breathe._ **

**_“Should have knocked him flat when you had the chance, girl!” An eerily low-pitched voice husked from behind. “Stupefy!”_ **

**_Antonin Dolohov flew backwards and hit the floor, knocked unconscious._ **

**_Mere seconds later, Bellatrix Black —_ _never_ _Lestrange, unless you had a death wish — knelt in front of an hyperventilating Hermione. Her gaunt features were hauntingly soft, fragile. The murderess looked… Concerned._**

**_“Shit, shit, shit!” Well, that confirmed Hermione’s theory. The Death Eater chanted those words, terror swirling in those bottomless eyes of hers. “You’re gonna be fine, just− Anapneo!” Hermione gasped for air greedily, placing a shaky hand around her throat. “Good, breathe. Focus on breathing.”_ **

**_Hermione’s body shuddered viciously. “W-Why…”_ **

**_“Silence,” sneered Bellatrix. For some reason, her voice was more panicked than anything else. “Shit, I haven’t used healing magic in fucking forever. What was the spell again?”_ **

**_Raising the claw-like wand, the raven-haired witch frowned. “Vulnera Sanentur…” Warmth rushed through Hermione’s body, numbing the unbearable pain somewhat. A relieved sigh rolled off her lips. “Aha! That’s the one. Vulnera San—”_ **

**_“GET AWAY FROM HER, LESTRANGE.”_ **

**_A powerful ‘Stupefy’ pushed Bellatrix away mid-incantation. The Death Eater vanished into thin air, swallowed whole by the darkness of the Department of Mysteries. No. Became one with the darkness of the Department of Mysteries._ **

**_“N-Neville!” Hermione cried out, her mouth curving into a wide smile which faded away almost immediately. The overwhelming squashing returned, oppressive and all-consuming. Unable to suppress a full-body shudder, Hermione coughed rather nastily. Her lips tasted like rusted iron. “H-Help. Dolohov c-cursed me. Hurts…”_ **

**_Darkness consumed her._ **

  
  


With a tired sigh, Andromeda rolled her shoulders. Stiff joints popped back into place audibly. “I cannot believe Bella blew up her cover just like that,” the older witch commented softly. “Seriously− what was she thinking!” A weary sigh. “Well, I guess that explains how you survived…” 

“I may or may have not asked her that once,” said Hermione wistfully. “According to Bella, my magic called to hers… I− she could feel my pain, apparently, though a bit dulled.”

“Soulmates.”

A statement, not a question.

“Oh, love…” Andromeda breathed, cupping her cheeks again with utmost gentleness. “That means− you have been feeling Bella’s pain for…” A thoughtful pause, a pained gasp. “Bella was in Azkaban for fourteen years, surrounded by Dementors all day long. Did you ever− you know, feel warm?” Hermione shook her head. “Oh, dear… T-Then, after her breakout… The suicide missions, the constant clashes against the Aurors, _His_ punishments, the Battle of Hogwarts, _Nagini_ trying to rip her apart… You felt _all_ of that.”

Hermione nodded, smiling grimly. “I’ve always felt _very_ weak, so very cold…” The Gryffindor witch hummed, a fond smile tugging at her pursed lips. “I fainted three days ago. Right after Transfiguration, in the middle of a conversation with Ginny and Draco. Madam Pomfrey took care of me, but she didn’t know what was wrong with me. I got discarded this morning, you know? I still feel so, _so_ weak… Guess I know why now.”

Andromeda chuckled, though the action sounded rather forced. “Poor you, having such a reckless idiot for a soulmate. Bella is the epitome of _walking danger._ ”

“I’ve gotten used to it,” Hermione laughed half-heartedly. Then, her golden eyes saddened greatly. “Andy, I need to know… What did the curse _do_ to her?”

“When performed verbally,” Andromeda started wearily, running her hands along her auburn curls. “The curse tears you apart, eats your flesh away, rips your insides open painfully slow. There were some mediwitches around in the Ministry, so Bella got treatment in the heat of the battle. I-If they hadn’t been there, if they hadn’t arrived in time… I would have…” Andromeda nibbled her lower lip, shaking her head. “Just− be glad you weren’t there, Hermione. The mediwizards have been trying to stabilize her signals for three days in a row. The aftereffects are still affecting her. They managed to repair the damage with an _ungodly_ amount of Dittany, but Bella lost an awful amount of blood back in the Ministry.”

“Have you seen her?”

Another giggle, though this one was surprisingly mischievous. Nothing good ever happens when a Black laughs like that. “Of course I have! Cissa and I visited her on Sunday night. The poor Healers tried to keep us out, said that Bella needed plenty of undisturbed rest, but… Well, let’s just say that Cissa _persuaded_ them. Now we can visit Bella whenever we want to.”

With a dry snort of amusement, Hermione raised her eyebrows. “When you say _persuaded_ …”

“I mean _threatened the living shit out of them_ , yes.” Andromeda straightened her back, clasped her hands together in true Narcissa Black fashion and exhaled slowly through her nose. Her chocolate eyes became _deadly_ icy. _“Listen here, you feather-brained fool, Bellatrix and I have been apart for nearly two decades. Not anymore. If you so dare stand between me and my sister, I will make you pay for it. Have I made myself clear?”_ A theatrical pause, a haughty sniff. _“Good. Let it be known that Andromeda and I are going to visit Bellatrix right now. Our families shall visit her whenever we see fit, understood? Now, if you’ll excuse us…”_

The Gryffindor shook her head, highly amused. The three Black sisters were… Unique, so to speak. Passionately protective of each other, almost to a fault.

“Andy… Can I see her?”

“How kind of you to ask,” Andromeda teased, though it lacked bite. And its usual charming playfulness. “Even if I said _no_ , you’d just find a way to sneak into her room. You aren’t Harry Potter’s best friend for nothing, after all.”

Hermione shrugged, unashamed.

“Finish your essay on Banshees,” Andromeda said with unyielding resolution. “And then come find me, we’ll visit her together.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione stormed into the library like a woman on a mission. 

  
  



	2. II: I expect a guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold and italics for memories, italics for thoughts/Legilimancy/incantations/Bellatrix mocking Andromeda

“SILENCE.”

Bellatrix Black’s imposing voice resonated throughout the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, promptly followed by the sound of a door being slammed shut. The old walls seemed to tremble due to the powerful bang for a fleeting moment. After a month and a half, Professor Black was finally back.

Frightened, the students fell silent and rushed to their seats. They looked at her with a mixture of fear, anticipation and intrigue. The braver ones raised their hands, ready to ask their professor _the_ question.

_‘Where have you been all this time, Professor Black?’_

In the meantime, the raven-haired witch sauntered down the narrow corridor staring straight ahead. Spinning her claw-like wand around her fingers with a blank yet stern expression, the woman hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you have any questions about the _things_ you’ve studied with Andromeda during my absence?” Bellatrix asked dryly, not facing her students. Everyone took the hint right away. “No? Alright then…”

“P-Professor Black!” Dean Thomas called, hand still in the air. The others had lowered theirs. 

Bellatrix spun around, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Mister Thomas?”

The Gryffindor gulped, shaking from head to toe. “I-I asked Professor Tonks about the Apparation method you used back in the day. Y’know, the one with the dark smoke? She didn’t answer my question. Said she didn’t know. I was hoping you could…”

Much to everyone’s surprise, Bellatrix looked eerily amused. “Yes, I guess I could,” the witch drawled, cracking her infamous smirk. “Unless _one_ of your classmates already knows the answer, that is,” a long pause, a low chuckle. “Not even Miss Granger knows? Unbelievable… What has the world come to during my absence?”

Hermione’s cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink. _“I do know! In case you’ve forgotten, I asked you last summer,”_ the younger witch defended herself. _“I just want you to answer Dean’s question… Everyone else is just as intrigued, if not even more! They want_ **_you_ ** _to provide an explanation, not_ **_me_ ** _.”_

_“Relax, I’m teasing you,”_ replied Bellatrix whilst sitting on her desk. _“And I do remember, pet. I treasure all of our conversations deeply.”_

With an overly dramatic sigh, Bellatrix shook her head. “In any case… We did not have a specific name for that. It was an enhanced Apparation method bestowed on us by the Dark Lord, as simple as that,” everyone shuddered upon hearing the dreadful nickname. Even Bellatrix looked rather disgusted. “We used dark magic to move around, basically. Our movements were more fluid, more or less quick depending on our needs. We could come in contact with objects and people in that smoke-like form. Crash into buildings, destroy foundations, toss enemies around… The same thing applies to the Order, though with light magic instead. Naturally, nobody can use that method anymore.”

The unspoken _“Considering that Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are dead now”_ was nearly deafening. 

Thankfully, someone broke the awkward silence. “Why not? You’re an extraordinarily powerful witch yourself, Professor Black,” said Draco in earnest. Admiration and awe sparkled in his ice-blue eyes.

Bellatrix’s signature smirk returned. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister Malfoy. Ten points from Slytherin,” the few Slytherin students present groaned. “Make that twenty.”

With a loud snap of her fingers, Bellatrix rearranged the whole classroom. The desks and seats — a couple of students fell flat on their arses — vanished into thin air, leaving the classroom practically empty. “Today you will be practicing the _Patronus charm_ ,” the professor explained nonchalantly. “Does anyone know what a _Patronus_ is?”

Surprisingly, a good amount of students raised their hands.

“Yes, Miss Weasley?” Bellatrix nodded at Ginny. 

“A _Patronus_ is a partially-tangible positive force. They are the primary protection against Dementors and Lethifolds, against which there is no other defence,” replied Ginny with astonishing conviction.

Though some hands were lowered, a few remained up. “Yes. Anything else… Mister Longbottom?”

Neville licked his lips. “There are t-two types of _Patronuses_ : corporeal, which means a _Patronus_ with a particular shape and form, and incorporeal _Patronus_ ,” he said, growing more and more confident by the second. “Incorporeal _Patronuses_ have no particular shape and do not protect against _Dementors_ the way corporeal _Patronuses_ do.”

“Correct. Anything to add?”

Everyone looked around, confused.

Hermione raised her hand, smiling triumphantly. _“There’s my know-it-all…”_ Bellatrix purred in her mind before saying aloud in a surprisingly neutral voice, “Miss Granger?”

“To successfully cast the spell, one begins by mustering the happiest memory they can think of,” answered Hermione, staring straight into Bellatrix’s silver eyes. “The happier the memory, the better the charm will work. Alternatively, one could imagine a scenario that would make for a very happy memory, but it’s not as effective. This is why later studies theorise that Patronuses can alleviate panic attacks, depressive episodes and issues of the like.”

Bellatrix nodded slowly, taking Hermione’s words into consideration. “Exactly. Five points to Gryffindor,” the witch drawled. As though the mere thought made her sick. “Care to make a little demonstration, Miss Granger? I’ve heard you’re amongst the few of us here who can cast a _Patronus_.”

“Can you cast a _Patronus_ , Professor Black?” Ginny blurted out, then covered her mouth with both hands. A look of sheer terror crossed her freckled face. “I-I mean… Death Eaters cannot cast one, so I thought… I’m so sorry.”

The raven-haired witch tilted her chin up, pale features twisting into a sneer. The classroom’s temperature dropped noticeably. “Of course I can, Miss Weasley. How do you think I sent information to the Order? By owl? Fifty points from Gryffindor.” Snapping her fingers in quick succession, Bellatrix nodded at Hermione. “Miss Granger, a demonstration. Now.”

Hermione stepped forward, meeting Bellatrix’s silver eyes. _“Bella− Ginny didn’t mean it.”_

Absolute silence. 

With a long-drawn-out sigh, Hermione unsheathed her wand. Drawing a wide circle in the air, the witch closed her eyes, thought about her happiest memory and fondly whispered, “ _Expecto Patronum._ ”

Her silvery otter appeared, swimming round the air whilst emitting happy noises. Almost immediately, the atmosphere became light-hearted once more. The little animal moved around the students, basking in their bewilderment and joy, before flying towards the now smirking professor.

“Not bad, Miss Granger,” said Bellatrix, studying the familiar otter with an amused glint in her eye. “Get to it, everyone. Those who already know how to cast a _Patronus_ can tutor someone who does not.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“Bella, are you okay?”

Her girlfriend’s dry cackle echoed throughout the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. “Define _okay_. That’s a very debatable concept, pet.”

Hermione gulped, walking towards the professor’s desk. “Please…” A weary sigh. “Ginny didn’t mean it like that, Bella.”

“Like _that_ ,” Bellatrix repeated acidly, snapping her fingers sharply. The desks and seats reappeared, falling back into place with a loud thud. “Pray tell, my dear, how did Miss Weasley mean it?”

_“Uh-oh, dangerous territory,”_ Hermione thought grimly, having raised her Occlumency shields. “Bella, please understand her. Understand _them_. You’ve been posing as You-Know-Who’s right hand for roughly three decades. You were in Azkaban for fourteen years. Ginny was surprised, is all.” Then, in a much lower voice. “I didn’t know you could cast a _Patronus_ either. Like everyone else, I just assumed…”

“That I couldn’t,” Bellatrix finished for her. Hermione nodded guiltily, shame tinting her cheeks pink. “How lovely.”

With a sigh that had come from years of chasing reckless boys around, experiencing near-death experiences left and right, living through a raging war and discovering that her soulmate was a so-called deranged murderess; Hermione lunged forward and hugged Bellatrix tight. Though Bellatrix had been out of St. Mungo’s for a week, the witch still smelled like Dittany and potions.

“I’m so sorry, Bella.”

Bellatrix struggled against her embrace, cursing obscenity after obscenity under her breath, before going limp. Her breathing remained erratic, though, much to Hermione’s dismay.

“Bella—”

“I know, pet… Believe me, I know,” whispered Bellatrix. “After all I’ve done… After all the things I’ve been through… There are people who still _believe_ , who still treat me like…”

Biting her lower lip, Hermione exhaled slowly through her nose. “I know, love, I know. It’s so not fair…” Bellatrix nodded numbly, wrapping her arms around Hermione’s waist. “That’s why you lost focus during your duel in the Ministry, isn’t it? And because someone called you…”

Unsurprisingly, Bellatrix tensed up. “Yes. I was doing just fine on my own, mind you. They’re all a bunch of malnourished, pathetic bastards. Cannot land a spell for dear life,” drawled Bellatrix acidly. “Though I guess Dolohov turned out to be more talented than I first thought. He strengthened that curse of his, you see. _That_ is definitely not what it did back in the day, it just squashed your insides and tore them apart. He’s made it nastier, that’s for certain. Anyway, _I_ had the upper hand, but… Someone called me _backstabber_ and _Lestrange_ in the same sentence and I fucking lost it.”

Hermione’s lips brushed against the faded Azkaban tattoo on her girlfriend’s neck. Warm breath met cold skin. Without a second thought, Hermione covered that area with kisses. The action made Bellatrix _purr_ contentedly.

“You’re Bellatrix Black,” Hermione murmured against pale skin. Her girlfriend’s pulse skyrocketed. “You’re an amazing witch, an incredible teacher, an honest-to-God war hero. I know it hurts. It’ll hurt for a long, long time. Maybe forever. But you’re not alone, Bella. You have me, and Andy, and Cissa, and Tonks, and Draco… People _believe_ in you, love.”

Bellatrix huffed, though it sounded more like a sob than anything else. “Draco fainted when he visited me,” the dark-haired witch whispered hoarsely. “ _You_ had a nervous breakdown, pet.”

**_“Are you going to ask aunt ‘Dromeda about aunt Bella?” Draco questioned softly, already knowing the answer. Hermione nodded, glancing at Andromeda. “Good luck. Try not to faint.”_ **

_“Ah, makes sense now.”_

Sniffing haughtily, Bellatrix hugged her closer. “Andromeda’s been lecturing me for weeks. For fucking weeks!” the older witch said, sounding rather exasperated. “ _Bella, stop being so reckless. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Think about Hermione! The poor girl would be devastated. Literally. And not just her! What about us, Bella? What about your family? You cannot scare us like this, we thought we’d finally lose you for good!”_

Inevitably, Hermione chuckled a bit. “That’s a very good impression of Andromeda, I’ll give you that.” A weary sigh, another round of kisses. “Andromeda’s right, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you now that I’ve found you. And your family cannot bear another loss…”

Bellatrix hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling Hermione’s pullover-clad shoulder. “Makes you think, hm? I really pity Potter’s soulmate. Just− imagine being bonded with The Boy Who Lived Twice for life!”

“Ginny has gotten used to it,” replied Hermione. “Though we often meet up and complain about our reckless soulmates. You two are a walking menace, seriously.”

With a roll of her eyes, Bellatrix pulled away from Hermione. “Didn’t you hear me before, Miss Granger? Flattery will get you nowhere.” Alright, heart-to-heart talk over. Got it.

The Gryffindor shook her head, smiling fondly at her girlfriend. “That reminds me… I wanted to ask you something.” Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Can I see your _Patronus_?”

“Under one condition.”

Hermione frowned, tilting her head to the left. The sight reminded Bellatrix of a confused puppy.

“I want to know what memory you use when you cast the _Patronus Charm_.”

“I used to think about the day my Hogwarts letter came home,” Hermione said, reaching out for her wand. “Nowadays… I think back on our first kiss. _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The silvery otter appeared once again, swimming lazily around both witches. 

**_Voldemort had been defeated._ **

**_The war was finally over._ **

**_With those two thoughts in mind, Hermione rushed to the makeshift infirmary. Once there, a dishevelled mane of black curls caught her eye._ **

**_The former Death Eater looked like absolute shit. Her skin was pale and clammy. There were patches missing, which Andromeda was healing with shaky hands. Whilst chastising her older sister, of course._ **

**_“You’re so reckless, Bella! I told you to be more careful. I told you He’d try to kill you for aiding a muggleborn!”_ **

**_“Whatever, mom.”_ **

**_Hermione chuckled weakly, approaching both sisters with weary steps. Her entire body hurt like there was no tomorrow._ **

**_“And speak of the devil,” Andromeda said, offering Hermione a tired smile. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit. I’m sure Dora doesn’t really want to mourn Lupin alone,” she turned to Bellatrix. “Take these potions in ten minutes, okay? And for God’s sake, don’t do anything stupid!”_ **

**_With that being said, Andromeda excused herself and stormed out of the Great Hall._ **

**_The young witch sat down on the edge of Bellatrix’s stretcher. “I’ve never seen Andromeda so on edge…”_ **

**_“Please,” drawled Bellatrix. “You should have been there the day before she ran away from home. The scaredy-cat would hex the living daylights out of anything and anyone that caught her off guard.”_ **

**_“That sounds like a Friday.”_ **

**_Bellatrix chuckled, though her expression turned into a pained grimace. “Anyway,” she said softly. “Why are you here? This place smells like death, blood and piss. Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your boyfriends?”_ **

**_“Not my boyfriends,” Hermione replied, blushing profusely. “And− I don’t know. I wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”_ **

**_“If you say things like that, I—” Bellatrix’s eyes fell on Hermione’s chapped lips. “Will probably do something we’ll both regret.”_ **

**_Hermione smiled, catching Bellatrix red-handed. The rightness in her chest was hard to ignore. Her magic rushed through her body, urging her forward and forward and forward. “I don’t think I will. You?”_ **

**_“No, I don’t think I will.”_ **

**_When their lips met, Hermione felt at peace for the first time since she was born._ **

Bellatrix hummed, brushing her right hand against the silvery otter. Feeling Hermione’s happiness rush through her, the raven-haired witch smiled warmly.

“That’s one of my favourite memories.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “But not the one you use?”

“Nope,” replied Bellatrix, popping the ‘p’ rather childishly. “I used to think of many memories a long time ago… Cissa tugging at my curls when she was a baby. Teaching my sisters how to fly on a broom. Getting my Hogwarts letter, buying my wand. Winning the House Cup, the Quidditch Cup… Draco being born…” Bellatrix unsheathed her wand, staring straight into Hermione’s golden eyes. “ _Expecto Patronum._ ”

A silvery hyena appeared from Bellatrix’s wand, bouncing up and down with a derpy smile. Soon enough, both _Patronuses_ approached each other and started playing the spiritual version of tag.

“A hyena,” whispered Hermione, mesmerised. “I wasn’t expecting that, of all things… It fits you. They find comfort in nonconformity, just like you.”

“I now think back on the day,” Bellatrix continued, cupping Hermione’s cheeks gently. “You said you didn’t think me a heartless monster.”

**_“Cissy, put the boys in the cellar! I’m going to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl!”_ **

**_When everyone left the parlour, Bellatrix pushed Hermione onto the floor and crawled on top of her._ **

**_“That sword is supposed to be in my vault, how did you get it?” The Death Eater asked through gritted teeth._ **

**_Hermione sobbed, shaking her head desperately. “We haven’t been into your vault, I promise.”_ **

**_“Then how?”_ **

**_“I-I don’t know. We found it in a lake!”_ **

**_Bellatrix sneered, drawing her wand closer to Hermione. “Now, Miss Granger, lying to your professors isn’t exactly nice. Open up.”_ **

**_“I promise! I promise! We found it, we haven’t been inside your vault!” Hermione cried, feeling the telltale sign of Bellatrix’s Legilimancy in her shielded mind. She was no match for Voldemort’s best lieutenant._ **

**_Minutes later, the raven-haired witch pulled away. “You’re not lying,” the Death Eater whispered. “Good, there’s still a chance. Listen up, there’s not enough time− Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup is inside my vault, it’s a Horcrux, it has to be.”_ **

**_Hermione’s eyes widened comically. “Why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me again?”_ **

**_“Because I’m on your side, pet. How many times do I have to tell you? Seriously, and people call you the Brightest Witch of Her Age? No wonder you are not a Ravenclaw. My poor, poor title has gone to waste…” Bellatrix mocked, rolling her eyes in an overly exaggerated manner._ **

**_The year before, Headmaster Dumbledore had introduced them to their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Bellatrix Black. Everyone, from first to seventh years, had screamed profanities at him over and over again. The ones who hadn’t fainted right on the spot had called him deranged, a traitor, You-Know-Who’s actual right-hand man, a mass murderer, the man pulling the strings behind You-Know-Who, You-Know-Who himself disguised as Dumbledore thanks to Polyjuice Potion, another victim under the Imperius curse, their Obliviated fool of a Headmaster, a murderer apologist, a mad pureblood elitist, a bloody psychopath… Poor Neville had even passed out on his seat as soon as he had seen the raven-haired woman._ **

**_Dumbledore, however, had smiled warmly and said, “The light in Madame Black outweighs the darkness. Expect the unexpected, see the unseen. Everything is not what it seems.”_ **

**_Turns out he had been… Right…_ **

**_Bellatrix pressed her wand against Hermione’s neck, pulling her back from her thoughts._ **

**_“What are you—”_ **

**_“We’re gonna have to play the part, dearie. They expect a lot of screams and cries and pleas… Let’s give the audience what they want,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “Now… Be a nice teacher’s pet and do as you’re told. Scream nice and loud for the big bad Death Eater. CRUCIO!”_ **

**_Though Bellatrix had said ‘Crucio’, a yellowish flame emanated from her wand. It was scorching hot. The uncomfortable warmth set her pain receptors on fire, though the sensation wasn’t unbearable or overwhelming. Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs, unable to do much more._ **

**_“WHAT ELSE DID YOU TAKE FROM MY VAULT!”_ **

**_“I didn’t take anything!”_ **

**_“LIES, LIES, LIES! CRUCIO!”_ **

**_The same spell again, the same awkward sensation, the same tortured screams._ **

**_Hermione looked into Bellatrix’s eyes. Silver, not black. “Y-You…” her voice came out in a subdued whisper, almost impossible to hear. “You are not the heartless monster everyone talks about.”_ **

**_Bellatrix felt warm for the first time in nearly three decades._ **

“That’s one of my favourite memories,” repeated Hermione, leaning forward ever so slightly. “I’m happy it’s you. My soulmate… I am so happy it’s you.”

Smiling lovingly, Bellatrix closed the space between them. 

  
The little otter mounted on the hyena’s back, chirping happily. Both _Patronuses_ glowed brighter, radiating enough happiness and warmth to tear through an entire army of Dementors without breaking a sweat.


End file.
